


Good Luck, Charlie

by Hinn_Raven



Series: Donut Siblings [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Siblings, F/F, F/M, Family, Felix Being a Dick, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Niner with a Shotgun, Original Character(s), Sheep, farm life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time things settle down, life throws another wrench their way. When Felix comes to the farm, intending to abduct Junior, the last thing anyone expected was to end up with another kid. </p><p>Admittedly, Charlie didn't expect to end up there either. </p><p>[Crossover with goodluckdetective's Hands are Gold]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/gifts), [ephemeraltea (temporarily_obsessed)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporarily_obsessed/gifts).



> goodluckdetective was absolutely lovely, and gave me permission to explore the idea I had while re-reading her amazing Charlie ‘verse. I came up with a mental image of Felix trying to kidnap Charlie in the Donut Sibling universe, and it amused me enough that I shared it with her. And then she encouraged me to write it. This ended up longer than I expected, but no regrets. I’m too amused.
> 
> If you haven't read "Hands Are Gold" (you really should though, tbh), what you pretty much need to know is this; Locus has a sword, and swords tend to come with alien babies. Locus gets a little alien girl named Charlie, and raises her, and generally is a good dad, until she gets kidnapped by an alien-resurrected Felix at age 5. Felix then goes after Junior. This is where this fic pics up. What happened in Iz's canon can be found in "Offer it a Soul".

As much as it pained him to delay his reunion with his partner, Felix had another part of the job to do.

The people who’d brought him back had happily given him a file on Lavernius Tucker, who had wandered his way back to Earth, and somehow ended up in _Iowa_ , of all places. Felix sighed. He hated small towns. They were just so _boring_ , and it was so hard to get away with murder in a place where everyone knew each other’s names.

Oh well. He was pretty sure that he’d be the talk of the town for years to come when he kicked Tucker’s severed head down Main Street. This seemed like it would be a town that would have a Main Street.

He had an address for Tucker; he’d rented a motel room for six months. He’d been spotted in the town. He was working at the local coffee shop, which made Felix laugh.

Tucker and his alien spawn were staying in a cheap motel just off the highway, so Felix went in with his best charming smile and a story about looking up an old war buddy, and the little old lady behind the counter ate it up.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I’m afraid Mr. Tucker doesn’t spend much time here these days. He mostly stays at the farm east of town; he’s friends with the family. It’s the one with the willow trees lining the drive way and the pink house—you can’t miss it!”

Felix whistled to himself as he went back to his car and started heading east. He was going to enjoy this.

* * *

Mitch was feeding the horses in the pen in the pen closest to the road, when she spotted an unknown car pull up. She frowned, especially when she realized the top was down, and it was only a strange man. Kai came and went as she pleased, and often got various people to give her lifts back, but a stranger coming to the farm was… well, it was worrying. Especially given  _who_ exactly were her various guests.

He was pretty in a pointy, sharp way, with a wide, smug grin that made Mitch nervous.

She ran her mind through all of the others, and where they were. Tucker and Junior were in the house, having another discussion about school, Doc and Donut were at their patch, the rest of the reds were in the barn, Lopez was working on the tractor again, Wash and Caboose were trying to round up the escaped sheep, Martha and Carolina weren’t due for a while yet, the kids were at school, and Andi was inside.

Mitch slipped her voice into her best drawl, and waved down the stranger, who stopped the car, smiling widely at her, as if they were old friends.

“Can I help you?”

“Hey there!” He leaned against the door of his car. “I’m an old war buddy of Tucker’s. I was in the area, and I heard he was here!”

 _What do you want with him?_ Mitch didn’t ask. She knew what kind of callouses were on the man’s fingers—she had them too. Throwing knives. And if he wasn’t carrying a gun, she’d eat nothing but Caboose’s cooking for the rest of the week.

“Sure is!” She said instead, smiling. “Why don’t you drive on up to the house? What’s your name?”

His smile widened, if that was possible.

“Felix,” he said, and if she hadn’t known he’d be watching for a reaction, she probably would have tripped.

Wash didn’t like to tell stories about his time before Chorus, but Chorus was free game. She knew all about Felix and Locus and the purge and the rest of it.

She kept smiling. “I don’t think Tucker’s mentioned you,” she lied, walking alongside the car to the garage. She was grateful for her baggy overalls and heavy gloves—they projected a perfectly harmless image to someone like Felix, who didn’t think about the muscles that came with tossing hay bales or hoeing peas, and certainly wouldn’t suspect that a farmer from Iowa would know how to throw knives.

Or that she would be married to a paranoid Freelancer pilot. That thought kept the smile on Mitch’s face.

“Babe! I’m home!” She called, pushing open the front door, Felix trailing behind her. It went against every instinct she had to turn her back to Felix, but he wouldn’t attack her now, she was fairly sure. She would lead him to Tucker. “And we’ve got company!”

“I’m in the kitchen!” Andi yelled, and Mitch grinned, heading through the living room towards her wife.

She kissed Andi on the cheek. “Babe, this is Felix. He’s a friend of Tucker’s!”

Andi, despite all her grumbling, paid _very_ close attention to Wash and Carolina’s stories.

“Uh-huh,” Andi said, rolling her chair closer to the table. Which would seem innocuous to anyone who hadn’t had at least three fights with her about the ridiculousness of keeping a shotgun on the underside ‘just in case’.

Mitch was really glad that she’d lost that fight. “I need to go wash my hands,” she said, still smiling at Felix. “Be right back!”

Of course, inside the small bathroom off the entry way were Wash’s spare knives. Mitch grabbed them, tucking most of them away but palming one.

“So, what’s your name?” She heard Felix ask.

“I usually go by Niner,” Andi said.

“Niner? What’s that short for?”

“My call sign. Four Seven Niner of Project Freelancer. Of course, my name’s Andromeda Caboose. My wife calls me Andi though.”

“ _Caboose_?” Felix repeated, stunned.

“We’re a very large family,” Andi said, and Mitch just _knew_ she was smirking. “And my little brother’s told me _so much_ about you, Felix.”

 _Boom_. The shotgun went off.

“Get out of my house, you genocidal maniac!” Andi shouted. Mitch beamed. She loved that woman. She darted out of the bathroom in time to spot Felix ducking down behind the counter that separated the kitchen from eating area, and threw the knife.

Felix yelped as he barely dodged it, then turned his gaze to her.

Where before he had been pleasant and even charming, now Mitch could see the guy who’d been willing to kill an entire planet for a paycheck.

“You know,” he snarled. “I am _really_ tired of other people throwing knives at me.”

Mitch dodged into the kitchen before he could charge her, Andi letting off another shot, forcing him to stay down. Mitch grabbed the radio, and yelled, “Tucker! Go to Martha’s place, _now_!”

Suddenly, she yelped as the steel of her knife was held against her throat. “Drop that gun, _now_ ,” Felix snapped to Andi. “Or otherwise I’ll have to kill your pretty wife.”

“I am going to feed your corpse into the wood chipper and then scatter the pieces on my crop duster!” Andi was spitting mad, even though she knew what was going to happen next.

Mitch readied her other knife. She hoped she got an artery.

She moved her hand hard, stabbing Felix in the leg. He yelped, and Mitch twisted, while Andi grabbed the pistol she always kept in the holster on her chair, and shot, grazing Felix’s face, leaving a large cut across his cheek. Felix managed to roll into the living room, and Mitch cursed, rubbing her neck. They were going to have to remodel after this—bullet holes were starting to cover the walls.

Donut tumbled down the staircase, carrying the gun in his hands. “Well, _hi_ Felix!” He chirped. “Long time no see!”

Felix’s face twisted. “ _You_ —”

That was, of course, when the sound of polka music began to blast through the house.

“Get down!” Andi shoved Mitch to the ground, and just in time, because—and Mitch was going to kill them for this later— _Grif had just driven the tractor into the side of the house_. Leaving a very large hole in the wall, and completely destroying the porch.  

“We have a door!” Mitch shouted, but her cries went unheeded as the Reds all leapt off the tractor, armed with every single weapon she’d told them they weren’t allowed to bring into the house, including Doc with his fucking rocket launcher.

Mitch rarely understood Wash’s animosity towards their brother-in-law, but in that moment, she sympathized.

Felix had some sort of energy shield, even if he didn’t have his armor, and threw the sofa at the Reds.

Then the door to the garage opened, and Martha, Caboose, Wash, and Carolina all stormed in, also armed.

“I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish here, Felix,” Wash said, stepping forward. “But you made a _huge_ mistake.”

That was when the actual front door opened and someone in actual armor, carrying an honest-to-god _sword_ charged in. “ _Felix_!” He went right for Felix, who tried to shoot him, but his aim was thrown off by Mitch sinking a knife into his arm.

“Fuck!” He doubled over, stumbling to the side, closer to the reds. “I guess I’ll have to come back later. Catch you later, partner!”

A smoke bomb went off, and when it cleared, Felix was gone.

“What the hell are you doing here Locus?” Wash demanded.

 _Locus_. Mitch’s blood turned cold.

Locus lowered the sword, and looked right at Wash. There was a long pause.

“I need your help, Agent Washington.”

The story came out—resurrection, alien children, a little girl name Charlie whose existence Wash was reluctant to accept. But in the end, Locus convinced them to help him go after Felix.

Wash hugged her tightly before they left. “Be safe. We’ll be home soon,” he said.

Mitch couldn’t help but remember the last time Wash had left to go fight.

It had been a very long time before he’d come back.

She just hoped that the others would make him more punctual.

“Well,” Martha said, when they were all gone, and they’d finished panicking over Junior sneaking away with them. “I guess we fix that wall?”

Mitch groaned.

Remodeling the house was finished before the Reds and Blues got home. Shannon and Joel were disappointed that they’d missed all the excitement of Felix’s attack, and sulked that Junior had gotten to go with—never mind that he was going to be grounded for life when he got back.

Weeks went by. They received a message from Carolina, letting them know that they were all fine, that things were taken care of, but they were stopping at Chorus to deal with some things.

What, exactly, wasn’t said. None of them pressed.

Finally, after Mitch had finally given in and weeded Doc’s toxic cabbage patch, after the tractor had broken down three times without Lopez’s maintenance, and after Andi had actually admitted outloud that she missed them, they finally came home.

And Carolina had an armful of Sanghelli.

“Her name is Charlie,” Wash said. Mitch quickly searched him over for new scars, and he looked alright. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, and then turned her eyes to the others. Everyone was alright. It was good to see.

Mitch then turned her attention to the small girl, who was clinging to Carolina in a way that most five year olds would hate to admit they wanted to do. She had gotten pretty good at reading alien expressions of the years of spending time with Junior. The kid looked _miserable_ and _exhausted_ , and Mitch’s heart went out to her.

Locus hadn’t come back with them. He was probably dead, or in prison, or maybe he had ran.

It didn’t matter right now.

“Hey there,” Mitch said, doing her best kid smile. “I’m Mitch; this is my house. Are you hungry?” The kid hesitated, then nodded, slowly. “My wife Andi is baking cookies. Why don’t you come on in?”

Carolina let Charlie down, and Mitch offered the kid her hand. Solemnly, Charlie took it, and they led the way into the house.

* * *

They painted Simmons’ old room green for Charlie, who seemed to be happy enough, but Sarge reported nightmares, and the kid was scared of the geese that lived the level below.

(Not that Mitch blamed her. Those geese were evil, and the only reason she had them was because they were Jackie’s favorites.)

“It’s not healthy for a kid to live like that,” Jackie said, when they had their sister’s coffee day the week after Charlie entered their lives. “It’s all well and good for the guys; they’re used to barracks and structures like that. Whatever you can say about Locus, he did a good job with that kid. She needs a _home_.”

Mitch rubbed her forehead. “We don’t have that kind of room,” she said, her shoulders slumping.

“She’s gotten attached to Carolina,” Martha said tentatively. “I guess we could take her. I could turn my work room into a third bedroom.”

“The farm’s good for her,” Mitch said. “Even if the geese aren’t,” she added, glaring at Jackie, who sipped her coffee and didn’t deign to answer.

“So what we’re saying is, we need more space,” Martha said, sitting upright. Martha was a carpenter, and she always loved the prospective of new projects. She’d had too much fun with the front porch.

Mitch sighed. “And now all we have to do is convince Wash about it.”

“Not Donut?” Martha asked.

“Donut’s going to _love_ this,” Mitch said, waving it away. “Now, shoo, and tell Wash to come help me set the table.”

By the time Wash came in, covered entirely in hay, Mitch was peeling potatoes. “Your children convinced Charlie that dropping a bale of hay on me would be _hilarious_ ,” he said flatly.

“My kids have great senses of humor, don’t they?” Mitch grinned. “Go clean up, then we’re setting the table.”

Wash came back, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes.

“So Sarge said his lady-friend might be coming by soon?” Mitch asked.

Wash coughed. “I’m still not used to that,” he muttered.

Mitch tried to keep her voice gentle. “You know, the loft wasn’t meant to be a permanent residence. And the farm’s getting kind of crowded.”

Wash tensed up. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “I know we’ve been an inconvenience, and I should have realized you’d be in danger—”

Mitch’s eyes widened as she realized that she’d said exactly the wrong thing. “No!” She snapped, dropping the potatoes and spinning to grab Wash’s arms. “I’m _not_ kicking you guys out!” She gripped his arms as tight as she could until she saw him take a deep breath. “You’re _family_. They all are. And we handled Felix. Together.”

When Wash finally nodded, she let go, and smacked him slightly. “Idiot,” she said. “What I was _going_ to say is, the Phillips are putting their place up for sale.”

“The farm next door?” Wash said, frowning.

“That’s the one,” Mitch nodded. “I was thinking about buying some of the fields anyways, but, since we could use the space, Martha suggested that we tear down those big barns they have and build some small places for all of you. Grif and Simmons could certainly use the privacy, and I _know_ Donut’s getting tired of me not letting him decorate, so he and Doc would love their own place. And Tucker and Junior could probably use some real breathing room, and god only knows a barn’s no place to raise a kid, even if Sarge _is_ next door.”

Wash crossed his arms. “Can you even afford that?”

“Andi has a pension,” Mitch said stubbornly. “And there’s always loans, if that isn’t enough—”

“We do too,” Wash said firmly. “We’ll help.”

Mitch glared at him. “I don’t need charity, David. This is my farm—”

“Count it off our rent, then!” Wash threw his hands into the air. “Mitch, you’ve done so much for all of us, just let us help _you_ , when you’re about to buy a place just so we don’t have to be living in your barn!”

Mitch glared at him, poking him with the peeler. “Fine. Let’s tell the others. Martha’s already drawing up blueprints.”

* * *

In the end, they built four small houses. One for Tucker, one for Grif and Simmons, one for Donut and Doc, and one for Sarge. Wash ended up moving in with Tucker and Junior, and Charlie split her time between the teal house, and Martha and Carolina’s apartment.

Caboose moved into Wash’s old room, mostly so Andi could keep an eye on him. He was delighted, especially when Martha and Jackie spent an evening painting the ceiling so that it looked like the earth as seen from the moon.

Sarge set up a charging port for Lopez in his house between declarations that he was still waiting for grandkids, which sent Grif and Simmons running for cover, and Donut and Doc running for adoption pamphlets, although they were still undecided on the subject. Lopez officially could be heard refusing to move in as loud as he could, but he still ended up spending plenty of time there, Martha’s dog Shadow following him more often than not.

Charlie, meanwhile, was discovered to have a gift for animals. Except for geese. Mikey the cat followed her everywhere when she was in the big house (as they all took to calling it when they all tromped up for dinner every night), and after Lopez, she was Shadow’s favorite person.

Shannon and Joel seized upon the idea of having a new cousin with characteristic aplomb. Charlie was Joel’s age, and even though she was much more reserved than them, she got swept up into their antics more often than not, even though she didn’t pick a side in their Red vs Blue shenanigans.

Mitch found the three of them waist-deep in mud, only half an hour before she and Charlie needed to hit the road. It was visitation day, and she quickly took a picture to show Lopez. They made quite an image, Joel and Shannon desperately trying to reach Charlie’s head so she could be splattered as thoroughly as they were, while Charlie laughed.

It had quickly been determined that Mitch, Martha, and Jackie were the best visitation chaperones. They all knew what he had done, but it was less personal for them. They could detach in a way the others couldn’t, and pretend that he was just Charlie’s dad, in a way the others couldn’t.

“Charlie!” She called, laughing. “Come on! It’s almost time to go!”

Charlie quickly sprung to her feet and tore towards the teal house to get cleaned up.

“Do we have to have a bath?” Joel demanded, frowning at her.

“Not yet, squirt,” Mitch laughed. “Go on, go find your uncle Donut and give him a hug for me.”

Eager to have a task, the two terrors raced off to find their uncle.

Mitch went off to check on the sheep, grinning.

Her family was all in one place. Even Kai was back this week, burdened heavily with as many treats as she could carry. She was determined to be the cool aunt, and as far as Mitch could tell, she was succeeding.

Of course, the next day would bring Vanessa Kimball to their doorstep. But that was a whole different adventure.


	2. Organized Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kimball and Grey arrive at the farm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of my crossover with goodluckdetective‘s Hands Are Gold! This time, Kimball and Doctor Grey come to the farm! Only, it’s a bit of a busy day for everyone. 
> 
> Kimball plays a pretty big part of Iz's AU: I seriously recommend checking it out if you haven't yet. It's awesome!

Vanessa Kimball was very well acquainted with exhaustion. War had worn her down to her bones more often than not, and politics was similarly draining, although the adrenaline rushes and gunshots were fewer and further between.

But that month was particularly rough, which was probably why she’d agreed when Doctor Grey suggested she go to Earth.

“You’ve said it yourself that someone needs to interview Locus!” Grey said. It was still odd to see the woman out of armor—it felt odd to _be_ out of armor. Most of Chorus felt the same way, she knew. It wasn’t uncommon to wear heavy clothes, and many people even wore weighted vests, trying to recreate the heft of the armor that none of them wore anymore.

Doctor Grey kept speaking, not acknowledging Kimball’s wandering thoughts. “And afterwards, you can join me at Agent Washington’s farm!” She said brightly. “It will be relaxing!”

Kimball could see the logic in Grey’s words. They were still trying to piece together a narrative of everything that had happened; the Epsilon Memory Project had been created to try to figure out what blame fell where, how this could have been avoided, how to stop it from happening again. And Locus’s testimony was a key part of that. Of all the pirates they’d interviewed, of all the encrypted files of Hargrove’s they’d managed to recover, there were still so many gaps that only three people had the answers to. One of them was dead. Another was still on the run.

And the third was imprisoned in a maximum security prison on Earth.

Kimball wished, sometimes, that she had fought harder to keep the man imprisoned on Chorus. But it didn’t matter. He’d ended up there.

Maybe she should have someone else do it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

She owed the dead this much. She’d face him herself.

“Fine,” she said. “I guess a change of scenery might do me good.”

Grey beamed at her.

A month later, she pulled off a highway towards a long, windy, dirt driveway. There was a sign at the end that was barely legible. The first name was completely blackened out, replaced with CABOOSE, which was then crossed out, and overwritten with DONUT, and which was also scratched through, and then WASHINGTON written in bright black sharpie. FAMILY FARM finished the sign.

“Well, at least we know we’re in the right place,” Kimball muttered.

Grey hummed and nodded. Kimball kept driving.

They’d only just caught sight of the bright pink house when Kimball was forced to slam on the breaks.

 _Sheep_. There were sheep _everywhere_. Kimball hadn’t realized that there could _be_ this many sheep.

Farming wasn’t an industry on Chorus—they didn’t have the healthy land to spare for it. Kimball’s experience with farms was limited to fictional experiences and small vegetable plots that mostly grew mushrooms to supplement field rations. She was pretty sure sheep were supposed to be cute. And clean-looking. And certainly not in the middle of a driveway.

Once she got over her shock, she became aware of screaming.

In Spanish.

Craning her neck, she could spot Lopez standing on top of a tractor, with a woman with a strong resemblance to Donut in the driver’s position, a dog on the back. She couldn’t move the tractor, since she too was surrounded by sheep on all sides, boxing her in. Two women were on the porch of the house (which looked like it had been recently painted the same shade as the house)—one a tiny woman who looked to also be related to Donut, standing with her arms crossed and a grin on her face, and a woman in a wheelchair with a shotgun on her lap, who was screaming profanities at Washington. Wash was currently standing very still in the midst of the sheep with a pained expression on his face. Kimball spotted Caboose close to the tractor, attempting to ride a sheep, despite the fact that he was well over six feet, while the sheep was… a sheep.

Donut and Doc were standing by the open gate, talking to woman who looked like a less-scarred, female Washington. She had her hands on her hips, and seemed to also be yelling. Definitely related to Wash. In the barn nearby, Kimball spotted Sarge waving a shotgun in the air, while Grif and Simmons argued behind him. Sighing, Kimball began to search for Tucker.

She found him and his son on the roof of the house, laughing.

Kimball looked at the pure chaos around her, and found her mouth twitching even as she sighed.

She was _definitely_ in the right place.

“Kimball!” Carolina was standing beside the car. There was hay in her hair. “And Doctor Grey! You’re here… early.”

“We’re half an hour late,” Kimball said with a frown.

There was a slightly dazed look in Carolina’s eye. “The sheep have been out that long?” She muttered, running her hands through her hair.

“What happened?”

“Someone left the gate open,” Carolina said. “And we can’t get them to go back in.”

“They’re _sheep_.” And you’re the heroes of Chorus, Kimball didn’t add.

Carolina looked around helplessly. “They’re _stubborn_ ,” she said. “And we’re not allowed to shoot them,” she added, sounding only a little petulant.

“Why don’t you have the dog try to herd them?” Kimball said, pointing towards the dog, who had managed to clamber to the front of the tractor where Lopez was still standing, and was now leaning against the robot’s leg, tail thumping against the metal.

“We tried. She’s not a herder. She wagged her tail at them and then got bored and tried to chase a chipmunk.”

Doctor Grey got out of the car. “Well, why don’t you try to convince them it’s feeding time?” She said in her most sensible voice.

Carolina turned to Grey, mouth slightly agape. She closed it. “Mitch!” She yelled, wading into the sea of wool and baa-ing. “Doctor Grey had an idea!” She paused halfway, and turned to Wash. “Wash, help Charlie get out of the tree!”

“ _Honk_!” Kimball’s head whipped towards the big willow tree that blocked the house from view from the highway. Sure enough, clinging to a branch, was an alien child that Kimball distinctly remembered.

“Hello Charlie!” Doctor Grey remembered the child too, and her voice was almost a coo. “Why are you in the tree?”

“Blargh!”

“Ooh, I see! Completely understandable.”

“What did she say?” Kimball asked, unable to stop herself from looking for resemblance between the child and her father, despite knowing there wasn’t any that a human could identify.

“She’s afraid of sheep!” Grey said.

“I don’t blame her,” Agent Washington said, managing to make his way to them. Kimball turned her eyes to him. He looked… better. The bags under his eyes were still presence, but they seemed to take up less of his face. He was sunburned, and there were more freckles than ever. He wasn’t smiling, but there was something about the way that he held himself that was far more at ease than Kimball had ever seen him. “They’re evil.”

“No, they’re too dumb to be evil,” the shortest sister had made her way down too. “Charlie, honey, Chancelor Kimball is here. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

“Honk!”

Wash looked like he was three seconds away from pinching his nose. “Charlie, I’ll protect you from the sheep. I promise.”

Reluctantly, Charlie looked down, as if considering the height for the first time. The short woman laughed, and pulled Wash forward. “Give a boost, David.”

Kimball blinked for a moment before remembering that David was Washington’s real name.

“Jackie,” Wash complained, but he obliging hoisted his sister up so she could help Charlie out of the tree.

Jackie ignored him, carefully scooping up Charlie in her arms. The kid clung to her, and let out a series of honks and blarghs.

Behind them, the sheep started to head downhill towards the wide open gate and the paddock.

The other two sisters tromp up to meet them. “You’re Kimball, right?” The tallest one asks, smiling widely in a way that’s remarkably Donut, which is a disconcerting image, given her resemblance to Wash. “I’m Mitch Caboose. This is my farm, even if these losers have taken it over,” her handshake is firm.

“Thank you for having me,” Kimball said, doing her best politician voice.

The last sister laughs, shoving Mitch aside so she can shake Kimball’s hand. “And I’m Martha. Middle child of the family, and Carolina’s roommate.” There’s a bright gleam to her eyes. “You’ve already met Jackie. She’s the youngest besides Donut.”

Mitch jerked her thumb over her shoulder, towards the house. “That’s my wife Andi on the porch—the others call her Niner. My kids Joel and Shannon are at school right now, they’ll be home soon.”

Kimball let her eyes flicker over to the Reds and Blues, who had finally seemed to notice them and were quickly converging. “Why aren’t Charlie and Junior in school?” She asked, as politely as she could manage.

“We’re still working out the bumps on enrollment,” Mitch said, waving her hand. “Plus, the paperwork for Charlie is still getting processed.”

“There’s a bit of a fight about who gets to be her legal guardians,” Jackie said cheerfully. “Apparently there’s a cap!”

Kimball opened her mouth, and then closed it again as her former captains descended on her.

“Kimball!” Tucker was looking like farm life was agreeing to him. He wore a tank top in his signature color that exposed all his scars, and his hair was longer than ever, his dreads now drawn up into a ponytail.

“Tucker,” she said warmly, before having to stop herself from yelping in surprise when he grabbed her into a hug.

“Welcome to our new canyon!” He said, stepping back. “Only this time, there’s less arguing, and more married couples!”

“Fuck you,” Grif snapped, but Kimball’s eyes went wide at the sight of a plain gold band on his hand. A quick check of Simmons revealed the same thing on his hand.

“You two—”

“Got married?” Tucker finished, gleeful. “Fuck yeah! I got fifty bucks from the betting pool, too!”

Simmons flipped Tucker off with his robot hand.

Caboose waved at her, smiling broadly, although he seemed distracted by Andi—Niner?—who was approaching quickly.

“So, you’re the famous Kimball,” the woman’s resemblance to Caboose was less obvious than Wash and Donut’s similarity to their sisters’, but it was there. “Thanks for keeping them alive,” she said.

“Aw, you do care,” Carolina said, smirking.

“Stop bragging,” Niner ordered, but there was a gleam of humor in her dark brown eyes. She was definitely Niner Kimball decided, not an Andi.

Mitch laughed, “Play nice,” she said, pecking her wife on the lips. “I’ve got guest rooms ready for you—they’re in the barn, sorry—”

“Doctor Grey will be staying with me!” Sarge boomed, beaming widely.

“I wondered when we’d get to that,” Grey cooed, before walking up to Sarge, kissing him on the grizzled cheek. Laughing, the former Colonel bent over so he could kiss her properly, much to the vocal disgust of the Reds.

“Alright then,” Mitch said, and there was Wash’s quiet smirk on her face. Kimball had to marvel at the family resemblance. “C’mon, Chancellor. You’re in the green room. Hope you’re not afraid of geese.”


	3. Family Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing ephemeraltea‘s Lauren to the Farm! Thank you so much for letting me borrow Lauren, Tea! 
> 
> Also, enjoy some Jackie POV!

Jackie knew that pretty much everyone tended to view themselves as the normal one in any given situation, particularly when surrounded by people as odd as her family was.

Jackie’s roommates never quite understood why Jackie was always going back to the farm. They didn’t _get it_ , which was honestly disappointing. Jackie’d brought them by a few times, but all they’d seen were the shouting and the smoke from the explosion that Emily and Sarge had created, and they didn’t see the rest.

Not that Jackie minded; she was pretty sure that anyone who got it had to be adopted, and her family was big enough.

Jackie loved them all, as infuriating as they might be sometimes. She pulled into the driveway and looked around, not spotting any of her family. It was early in the afternoon, so Mitch was probably out in the field, and she’d probably taken at least a few of the others with her to keep an eye on things. Jackie hadn’t heard anything coming out of Martha’s shed when she passed it, so either Martha was in Lopez’s shed or she was still at her apartment with Carolina.

Shrugging to herself, Jackie mounted the steps to the Big House, digging in her pockets for the key she probably wouldn’t need.

“Hey Andi!” Jackie called. Martha had taken to calling Andi by her old war name, like Wash and Carolina. Jackie was less sure about it—Andi had been Andi for years. It wasn’t like David, where Jackie knew there was a dissonance between the names. Wash wasn’t used to being called David, not anymore, and Jackie did her best to respect that. And Jackie had taken up calling Frank “Donut” almost the minute he went off to war. He enjoyed the name too much. But Andi hadn’t expressed a preference either way, so Jackie figured she’d go with the one Mitch had introduced her girlfriend as.

Back when their lives had been simpler, Jackie thought ruefully, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“Did you see Grif or Simmons?” Andi yelled back. Jackie stared.

There was a small kid sitting on the couch.

Jackie stared at the kid. The kid stared back.

The kid couldn’t be any older than six, and might have been younger. Her clothes weren’t in the best shape, and she had a _look_. It was a mix between scared and sullen and angry, and Jackie couldn’t stop staring, because _there was a kid on the couch_.

“Andi, please tell me Charlie didn’t turn into a human while I was gone,” Jackie said.

Andi rolled into the living room, balancing a sandwich on her lap. “This is Lauren. She’s going to be staying here for a while.”

“Huh,” Jackie said. “Hi Lauren. I’m Jackie.”

“Which one are you then?” The kid asked, squinting.

“Grif and Simmons gave her a crash course,” Andi said, setting the sandwich on the coffee table.

“I’m the psychologist,” Jackie offered, sitting in the big armchair by the couch. She didn’t want to crowd the kid. She frowned, turning to Andi again. “Wait, she’s staying with Grif and Simmons?”

“Yep,” Andi said, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

“You’re the weird one!” Lauren said triumphantly.

Jackie couldn’t help but wonder what Grif and Simmons had told Lauren for Lauren to come to _that_ conclusion. “Maybe,” she said mildly.

“The one that made them get married!” The kid explained further.

“Oh _that_ ,” Jackie said. “Everyone helped.” She glanced at Andi again. “Where _are_ Grif and Simmons?”

Andi sighed. “They had to go into town to get some stuff. There were a few complications—they weren’t expecting her for a few days, so they didn’t have a bed for her.”

Jackie’s eyebrows went up. “I hadn’t heard anything about this,” she noted.

“I’ll let Grif explain that one,” Andi said.

Jackie looked at Lauren, who looked like she was on the verge of screaming of boredom. “Hey Lauren, want a tour of the farm?”

Lauren nodded, although she didn’t seem that enthusiastic. Jackie couldn’t blame her—on the surface, there wouldn’t be that much to do on a farm.

Jackie pointed towards Martha’s shed. “That’s the woodshop, my sister Martha usually spends time there, or in the tractor shed there,” she pointed down the hill. “Lopez is usually with her.”

“The Spanish guy?”

“Robot,” Jackie corrected absently. “Yeah, that’s him.” She started heading down the hill towards the barns and the paddock. “The barn on the right has the guest rooms—no one’s staying there right now, but we’re expecting a few people from Chorus are going to be visiting soon, so we’re getting the rooms ready.”

“That seems like a waste of a barn,” Lauren said.

Jackie laughed. “It’s got geese, cats, sheep, and pigs,” she reassured the kid. “The one on the left has the chickens, cows, and the alpaca.”

“Why do you have an _alpaca_?” Lauren demanded.

“That’s what I’ve been asking Mitch for years,” Jackie said with a sigh. She glanced sideways at the kid. “Have any strong opinions on animals?”

“The geese look cool,” Lauren offered, not understanding what Jackie was fishing for. Given Simmons’ reaction to the garter snake that lived under the porch and Grif’s infamous reaction to the bats in Martha’s woodshop, Jackie figured the odds were that the kid would get along famously with every single animal on the farm, or would be terrified of the cows or something equally harmless.

She still brightened at the prospect of having another geese supporter. “They’re my favorites,” she confided to the kid.

Lauren nodded, grinning.

They got to the big sheet metal building that had once been a place to store the Bobcat before Sarge and Grey had claimed it as a lab.

Jackie kicked the door, and then grabbed the handle and hauled. The door was made of the same sheet metal as the rest of the building, and she smiled as the smell of smoke and chemicals filled her nose.

Sarge and Grey were in.

“Sarge! Emily!” Jackie yelled.

“Jacqueline!” Emily said, beaming. “You’re just in time, we’ve—”

“Maybe no explosions until after the introductions, Emily,” Jackie started, gesturing to the kid, who was staring at Sarge with wide eyes. Sarge was staring at her back, brow furrowed.

“Did Charlie get zapped by a humanizing ray?” Sarge demanded.

Jackie hid her grin. “No Sarge,” she said. “This is Lauren. She’s going to be staying with Grif and Simmons.”

Emily and Sarge exchanged huge, luminous smiles. “Lauren, huh?” Jackie pretended she didn’t hear the sentimental note in Sarge’s voice. “What do you know about the glorious red army?”

“Is this why Grif asked me if I liked red?” Lauren asked, nose crinkling in confusion.

Sarge looked at her expectantly.

“I said it was okay. And that I didn’t like blue.”

Sarge laughed. “Aha! It looks like Grif did something right for once in his life!”

Lauren walked up to the counter and stood on her tiptoes to try to see what was happening. “Did you say something about an explosion?”

“We sure did!” Emily said. “Do you like explosions?”

Lauren nodded eagerly.

“Oh, she’ll fit right in,” Jackie said, not even hiding her smile. Sarge grinned, and picked Lauren up so she could have a better look, already winding up for a long explanation about Red versus Blue. Jackie glanced at the lab safety equipment on the wall, and made a mental note to buy some in a kid’s size.

She had a feeling Lauren would be spending a lot of time in here.

Once Sarge and Emily had finished showing off, Jackie managed to convince Sarge to set down his new grandchild, and managed to lure Lauren out of the shed by promising to show her the place she’d be staying.

The farm that Mitch had bought to build the Reds and Blues’ houses on had been next door, but it was still a bit of a hike on foot. Luckily, Lopez and Martha had scavenged some old mongooses, making the trip a lot faster.

The houses were all small and quaint, and brightly colored. Sarge and Emily’s was the one that they passed first, painted a bright red. Next was Tucker and Wash’s house was painted a bright teal, but Wash’s presence was made known in the yellow trimming. Then there was the bright orange and maroon striped monstrosity that was Grif and Simmons’ home. Donut and Doc had kept their place more subdued; instead sticking to pink with a purple room. How Doc had found purple shingles, Jackie would never understand.

Getting off the mongoose, she led Lauren first to Tucker’s house. “I think the others should be here,” Jackie told Lauren.

“Others?”

“Didn’t Grif and Simmons tell you there are four other kids?”

Lauren’s eyes seemed to widen. “ _What_?”

Junior pulled the door open. “Aunt Jackie!” He looked down, spotting Lauren. He looked behind him, obviously checking on Charlie, who was standing on the staircase, curious. “And who are you?”

Lauren didn’t seemed phased that he was an alien. “I’m Lauren. I’m supposed to be staying with Grif and Simmons.”

Junior blinked. “Uh, welcome?”

“Are my other niece and nephew here?” Jackie asked, raising her voice slightly.

“Aunt Jackie!” Shannon and Joel yelled, and Jackie laughed as Junior stepped aside to let them in.

“Kids, meet your new cousin Lauren,” Jackie said, putting a hand on Lauren’s shoulder.

Shannon squinted. “How old are you?” Shannon asked. Shannon, being eight, had Opinions on the subject of age.

“Six,” Lauren said, crossing her arms.

“Me too!” Joel offered, grinning crookedly. “And Charlie’s five!” He turned around to tug Charlie down the stairs. “This is Charlie!”

“Hi,” Lauren said.

Charlie offered a honk that was her greeting. Charlie knew some English, but she was reluctant to use it since coming to the farm. Jackie was pretty sure that Felix—may he rot in hell—had something to do with it, but she was trying not to push it.

“She says hello,” Shannon informed Lauren. The kids had picked up Sanghelli pretty quickly—luckily for everyone involved, they hadn’t taken after their Uncle Donut when it came to languages.

“Your dad home, Junior?”

“No,” Junior said, carefully speaking English for Lauren’s benefit. “He and Uncle Wash are with Aunt Mitch.”

“Mitch let Wash in the field?” Jackie blinked. Mitch was usually pretty strict about what jobs Wash was allowed to do on the farm, and she was protective about her crops.

Junior shrugged.

The sound of polka music filled the air, and Jackie groaned. “If they drove the tractor out this far again—”

“Uh, Jackie? Have you seen the kid?”

Jackie crossed her arms. “Why, exactly, did you foster a kid and not mention it to any of us?”

Simmons and Grif looked at her blankly. “Didn’t we mention it?”

“I’m sure we did.” Simmons didn’t look very sure. In fact he looked quite anxious.

Jackie shook her head slowly. Lauren looked interested.

Jackie sighed. “Did you leave all the stuff at the big house when you panicked and couldn’t find her?”

Grif and Simmons exchanged looks. Luckily, Jackie had learned to speak fluent Grimmons over the years. “You bring back the tractor before Mitch comes back and kills you, I’ll show Lauren to her room.” She turned back to the rest of the cousins, who also looked intrigued by the fact that their uncles had forgotten to mention that they were adopting a kid. “You guys, go up to the house and help Andi get ready for dinner.”

There was the usual chorus of groans and complaints that accompanied any request to do work, and then Junior started to herd Joel and Shannon towards the Big House. Charlie hovered, waiting for the others to be on their way, before she took Junior’s hand and started walking. She turned over her shoulder and waved quickly at Lauren, whose eyes lit up and waved back.

“She’s nice!” Lauren said. It didn’t escape Jackie’s notice that Lauren hadn’t really seemed to torn up that Grif and Simmons had driven off.

She wondered how long this kid had been alone.

She didn’t like the feeling.

Jackie took her to the striped house, and showed her the spare room. Grif and Simmons had clearly made _some_ preparations. They’d moved all their junk out of it, and there was a mattress propped up against the wall, as well as a bookshelf that Jackie was pretty sure Simmons had brought home from work.

“Did you leave your stuff up at the Big House?” Jackie asked.

“Yeah,” Lauren said, although she didn’t seem too worried. Jackie wondered how little the kid had, that she hadn’t noticed any luggage when she’d arrived. She’d been distracted by the prospect of a strange kid, sure, but she liked to think she would have noticed.

Jackie wondered where Grif and Simmons had _found_ this kid.

She was fairly certain the answer might make her attempt to shove them in therapy again.

“Alright, let’s head back. Dinner should be soon.”

The trip didn’t take that long, and soon enough they were all seated for dinner, just waiting on Mitch.

Mitch, Wash, and Tucker all piled in, covered in dirt and plant life, and Mitch moved forward to say hi to everyone. Her eyes lingered on Lauren for a moment, and then moved around the table quickly, as if making sure everyone was accounted for. She checked on Charlie twice, then went back to Lauren.

“Andi, did we get another kid?”

“No, Mitch,” Andi said, smiling indulgently. “This is Lauren. She’ll be staying with Grif and Simmons.”

“Huh,” Mitch said, blinking, before taking it in stride. After a few years of living with the Reds, Blues, and former Freelancers, they’d all learned to just roll with whatever happened. “Welcome aboard kid. Hope you like explosions.” She threw herself down into her seat.

“Did you two seriously just get a kid without telling anyone?” Wash asked Grif, incredulous.

“Look, drop it okay Blue?” Grif pointed his fork at him, mouth full of potatoes.

Simmons didn’t look up from his food. Lauren’s eyes kept darting around the table, which was always crowded at dinner, but seemed even more-so now.

Tucker laughed, and dug his elbow into Grif’s side. “Knew you two would get around to it eventually!” He crowed, then turned to Lauren. “So, what do you think of the farm?”

“It’s big,” Lauren offered tentatively.

Mitch laughed. “That it is, Lauren. What do you like best so far?”

“The lab,” Lauren said promptly. Emily and Sarge beamed proudly. Jackie noted that Sarge was drinking out of his _World’s Best Grandpa_ mug. He’d come prepared. “The geese were also cool.”

Charlie let out a small, alarmed blargh. Her relationship with the geese had not improved since moving out of the barn and into Tucker’s house.

Martha let out a loud, cracking laugh, while Lopez, sitting next to her without a plate in front of him as usual, groaned.

“Un otro vez,” Lopez despaired. 

“Oh, you’re going to fit in just fine kid,” Martha said.


	4. Normalacy's Overrated Anyways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Niner and Mitch met in the Donut Siblings ‘verse, plus the story of their tenth anniversary! With a guest appearance from a very flustered Wash.

Four Seven Niner was raised on the moon, and spent her whole life wanting to leave.

Andromeda Caboose, that was the name her parents had given her. She shortened it to Andi as soon as she could. She had more siblings than she had fingers, her parents were always too busy, and the house was overflowing at any given moment. And worst of all, the young Andi would always complain to any of her siblings that would listen—usually Mikey—there was nowhere to _go_.

Andi wanted stars and space and adventure. She wanted to leave the moon behind. Being grounded, being trapped, always seemed like the worst thing possible.

Of course, there weren’t a lot of opportunities to _leave_. But there were always ways. When she turned eighteen she enlisted. They had her fill out an application and gave her tests, and she must have done pretty good, because then they asked her what she wanted to do.

The answer was easy. “I want to _fly_.” 

She became a pilot, and then a good pilot, and then a _great_ pilot. She was one of the best. She knew it. Everyone knew it. Her file was passed to certain important people, and she caught the eyes of one Aiden Price.

“Andromeda Caboose,” he said, standing in her pelican. “I have a transfer request for you.”

She squinted at him. “Since when are transfers, _requests_?” She didn’t see a military uniform on him, so she didn’t add the sir.

“We are… a very unusual project.” His smile was bland, and he held out a thick manila file. “But we believe you could be of incredible use. We need a pilot. We need to _best_ pilot.”

She frowned. She knew flattery. But she also knew that she held several records, and that it was closer to the truth than not.

“I’m interested,” she said, and his smile got real for a moment.

“I look forward to working with you,” he said.

She traded her name for a handle. Four Seven Niner. The pilot to the best damn soldiers in the galaxy. She met Agent Carolina, who flew her copilot more often than not. She met Agent Wyoming, who told the worst jokes. She met Agent Washington, who was loud when he got nervous but was a solid soldier at the end of the day. She worked with AI and pulled off stunts so ridiculous her teachers would never believe her and she caught Freelancers in freefall and she pulled their asses out of the fire more times than she could count.

And then it all ended in a crash.

The ship was falling out of the sky, and to add insult to injury, Niner found herself thinking, she wasn’t even the one flying it.

She woke up in a hospital, and her legs didn’t work.

Price—the Counsellor now, always the Counsellor—told her that there was no need for pilots anymore. Not when Agent Washington was the only one left.

They grounded her, and trapped her in a base, and gave her a _desk job_. And she sat there, speaking only to Wash, and even him only through a radio, and she wondered what the _hell_ the others had found that had made them run away.

And then she lost Wash. “Wash? _Wash_?” Her hand was on her headset, and she was shouting so loud that it was echoing, and she punched the table, cursing. The Meta was _close_ , and Wash was alone with only _Sim Troopers_ for backup.

“You seem distressed, Four Seven Niner,” she tensed the minute she heard his voice.

“South is dead, and we just lost contact with Washington!” She snapped. “ _Of course I’m distressed_!”

He stared at her for a long moment. “I believe, Four Seven Niner, Project Freelancer no longer has need for your services. Arrangements will be made.” He turned around and walked away before Niner recovered enough to throw her headset at him.

Years later, she realized that the asshole had probably accidentally saved her life. She’d laughed about it for a solid week, knowing that it hadn’t been even remotely what he’d intended.

But that was later.

For now, she was going home.

* * *

Niner had never been to Earth. But the doctors at the center she’d been shipped to after being declared unfit for duty, (who  _weren’t_ Freelancer doctors, and so could tell her what apparently had been true for  _years_ ) had told her that, with surgery and PT, she might be able to walk short distances again.

So she went through the surgery, and then she got referred to a place in _Iowa_ , and she gritted her teeth and reminded herself to be grateful that she at least hadn’t known Agent Iowa, and she went through every last exercise her therapist told her to. She wanted to get back at least a _part_ of what Freelancer had taken from her.

Unfit for duty. She couldn’t even fly _commercial_ with that haunting her, not unless she could get it revoked somehow. And he’d done it on purpose too—the rest of her file was redacted, but he’d left that part out? She must have really pissed him off somehow.

On the days she didn’t have therapy, Niner usually just stayed in the motel room she was renting. Earth TV was better than the moon TV at least, and she watched shit television and read trashy novels she picked up at the gas station and stared at the ceiling, feeling sorry for herself. It wasn’t healthy maybe, but Niner couldn’t make herself care.

Of course, then she ran out of food. Niner sighed. It was a fairly long way to go to the town’s grocery store, but the gas station was further, so grocery store it was.

The town was like something out of a storybook most days. It was hilariously quaint, almost like something she would have made up to entertain Mikey, back on the moon. She wondered if Mikey was on his way home yet. The war was over, and she doubted he was going to make a career of it, so he should be, right?

Maybe she should call home and ask. Even if that meant dealing with everyone’s expressions when they saw the chair.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sight of a produce stand. It had been a while since Niner had eaten anything not frozen or canned, and she pulled up towards it, wondering if it would be worth it.

“All fresh,” Niner blinked, surprised, when the farmer behind the stand addressed her. “The corn’s just picked this morning.”

“I… don’t have a stove,” Niner said. She wasn’t used to speaking to people other than her therapist these days. And the farmer was oddly familiar in a way she couldn’t place. She was possibly the tallest woman Niner had seen not in the military, with long, curly blonde hair and a wide, easy smile. She wore a pair of faded jeans and a plaid button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, despite the summer heat.

The woman’s smile didn’t falter. “Well, I’ve got tomatoes and raspberries. Don’t need a stove for those.”

“I—sure. How much for a thing of raspberries?” Niner fumbled for her wallet.

“You in the service?” The farmer asked suddenly, and Niner realized she’d worn her old jacket, with the pilot badge on the chest.

“I was,” she said shortly.

The farmer nodded. “My brothers were both in. Frank’s still deployed, but my older brother went MIA a few years back. Hull breach on his ship.”

Niner winced, trying and failing not to think about Mikey. She swallowed. “My brother’s still in too,” she offered.

The woman passed Niner the raspberries. “Never easy, is it. I’m Mitch,” she added.

Niner had to stop herself from giving her handle. “Andi,” she said, and she smiled back.

“Well Andi,” Mitch grinned. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. Welcome to town.”

Niner didn’t tell her she’d been there three months already. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll be seeing you.”

She went back to the stall every day for the rest of the week, just to talk to Mitch. Mitch lived on a farm east of town, where she lived with her parents and worked for them. She had three siblings still alive, and was now the oldest. She talked about her MIA brother in the past tense. “No point in hoping. Not even that power armor can keep someone alive in space forever,” Mitch said when Niner asked her about it. “Maybe we’ll get a body one day, but we’re not holding our breath.”

Niner told Mitch about the moon, about her sisters and about Mikey, about flying, about being grounded.

“Ever thought of getting a crop duster?” Mitch asked, leaning forward. “Or a hydro-plane? Something small, y’know.”

“I doubt I could get a license,” Niner said, but she rolled that thought around her head, and she couldn’t stop herself from staring at the stars with a little more hope that night.

“Have dinner with me?” Niner asked Mitch the next morning.

Mitch’s smile was wider than Niner had ever seen it. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Dinner turned into dinner and a movie. That turned into a second date. After they’d visited every restaurant in town, they went to the ones in the next town, Mitch helping Andi into her battered pickup and putting her wheelchair in the back, and pointing out the landmarks both ways.

Niner finished her PT, but she stayed in town. She got a job manning the phones for the local insurance company, and kept staying in the motel while she kept an eye out for apartments. She went to Mitch’s farm and met her family. She took the tests, and got her silence to fly private planes, even if no company would hire her with that mark on her record. She met Jackie and Martha, who gleefully told her every embarrassing story about Mitch they could think of.

And then, just when Niner had finally found an apartment that was accessible enough that she was talking to the owner about renting, Mitch got down on one knee and asked Niner to marry her.

Niner said yes.

Mitch’s parents moved into the retirement village, and Niner and Mitch moved into the farm— _their farm_.

They sat on the front porch, drinking coffee and watching the sun set over the paddock, and Mitch ran her thumb along the new golden ring on Niner’s finger.

“Think we can make this work?”

“What, just the two of us and this big farm? I think we can manage it.”

* * *

“Mitch, I love our family, but if I have to call the insurance company and explain “we have several mad scientists in the family, please pay for the fire damage” one more time, I will throw them out of my crop duster.”

Mitch groaned. “Which building?”

“The Red house.”

“What did Sarge do _this time_?”

“It was Emily this time. She was helping Lauren with a school project.”

“Lauren is in Joel’s class. I think we’d know if he had any projects that involved fire!”

“I didn’t even ask,” Niner said.

Mitch sighed. “One quiet day. That’s all I ask. _One day_.”

“Martha and Carolina have the kids for the day, Grey’s promised to keep an eye on Caboose, we announced it was our anniversary three times at dinner yesterday, and all the doors are locked,” Niner offered.

Mitch looked her in the eye. “I’m turning off the power. They can’t call us. We’re unavailable.”

“Agreed,” Niner said, laughing as her wife scrambled towards the basement where the switchbox was.

The lights went out, and Niner went about lighting the candles she’d already placed around the room. “Now,” Mitch emerged into the living room, holding a dusty-looking bottle of champagne in one hand, and two of their wedding champagne flutes in the other. “Where were we?”

“How long have you been saving that?” Niner laughed.

“We’ve been married ten years,” Mitch said, sitting on Niner’s lap to kiss her. “I thought we deserved a treat.”

“It’s so _dusty_!”

“Bought it two years ago,” Mitch admitted. “It’s good though.”

“I won’t believe it until I have a glass,” Niner challenged.

Mitch grinned at her, the same, wide grin that Niner had seen at the stand all those years ago, and popped the cork with a flourish.

“I can’t believe I married a showoff,” Niner said, accepting her glass.

“Says the woman who did a barrel roll in a _crop duster_.”

“My honor was at stake,” Niner said with a sniff.

“No, Tucker bet you five dollars that you couldn’t do it. You can’t lie to me, Donut tells me everything.”

“Shut up and get over here. We only have twelve hours before Martha brings the kids back, I’m making the most of this.”

Laughing, Mitch grabbed her own glass and moved towards her.

An hour later, of course, Wash broke down the front door.

“What the _fuck_?” Niner yelled, pulling away from Mitch so she could glare appropriately.

“You weren’t answering the phone, what the hell is wrong?” Wash yelled back, before his eyes grew very wide as he realized what was happening. “Oh my god,” he whispered. Mitch’s glare was added to Niner’s own now.

Niner grabbed the lamp from the nearby and threw it at Wash’s head. “You are _dead,_ Washington!”

“I’m sorry!” Wash yelled, ducking, before Niner grabbed the next-nearest thing—the now-empty champagne bottle and prepared to send it after the lamp. “I’ll just—I’ll be going now!”

Mitch sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Please don’t actually kill him. I can’t think of a good reason now, but I’m sure I have one. When I’m not thinking of all the baby pictures of him I haven’t shown Tucker yet.”

Niner sighed, rubbing her eyes as the sound of _another_ explosion shook the house. “Not our problem,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not our problem. It’s our anniversary. The kids are gone. They survived for years without us.”

Mitch was already looking for her pants. “I will kill them all,” she said.

“Not as much as I do. At least you’re related to more than one of them.”

“Same number as me if we’re counting marriage,” Mitch said, tossing Niner her shirt.

“You know, when I said ‘for better or worse’, I didn’t realize it meant dealing with these idiots,” Niner grumbled.

“Look, you’re the one who put the getaway driver clause in our vows. I think any chance of a normal marriage went out the window after that. Besides,” Mitch said, quickly kissing Niner. “We’d both be bored without them.”

“That’s beside the point,” Niner said, settling into her chair.  “Now, let’s go make sure my brother hasn’t burned down the corn crop. Again.”

* * *

 

“So you interrupted them on their anniversary,” Martha said, looking up from her project now that Wash was finished speaking.

“I never wanted to see that,” Wash knew he was whining, but he didn’t care. “I didn’t need to _know that_.”

“They’re _married_ , with _two kids_ ,” Martha said. “What did you think they wanted the house alone for, chess?”

Wash crossed his arms. “You could be more sympathetic.”

“Sorry, fresh out,” Martha said, picking up her coffee and giving it a sniff before taking a sip.

“Of _sympathy_?”

“Usted rompió la puerta. Hemos tenido que solucionarlo. Ir llorar a tu novio si quieres simpatía,” Lopez said.

“¿Cómo estoy relacionado a este tipo?” Martha asked Lopez.

“Es un misterio. ¿Por qué es que incluso en este caso? Él sabe que no nos importa, ¿verdad?”

“Will you stop that?” Wash demanded. “I know you’re talking about me.”

“Congrats, Big Brother,” Martha said, rolling her eyes. “Look, you know Mitch will think to look in here eventually, right? You should probably switch up your hiding place.”

“I’m not _hiding_!” Wash protested. His sister gave him a _look_. Then he saw her pick up the giant jig-saw, and turn it on. “And when did you learn to use power tools?” He yelped, leaping backwards as sawdust began to fly everywhere. 

“I was fifteen when you left, idiot,” Martha pointed out, shouting to be heard over the saw. “We all had character development. I learned to put people in chokeholds. Mitch fell in love. Jackie managed to get legal justification for her experiments. You, apparently, became a hardass drill sergeant and had a series of wacky adventures.”

“And Donut?”

“Managed to learn to requisition wine on the battlefield,” Martha said flatly. “Now, unless you’re going to help, I have three custom orders I need to have finished by Friday, so go away before I set the bats on you.”

Wash glanced up to the small house attached to the wall that housed the bats. “You don’t have them trained,” he accused.

“Says you,” Martha retorted. “Go, before I tell Andi where you are then.”

“You play dirty,” Wash said, heading for the door.

“I learned from you!” Martha shouted after him, before she started up the saw again.

Wash had thought he’d escaped until Charlie showed him the pictures that had been shoved under their door.

Mitch had managed to find his childhood Halloween pictures.

Tucker cried laughing.

Wash did his best to destroy the evidence before the Reds found them.

Of course, Mitch had made copies. And given them to Donut. But Wash didn’t know that yet. He wouldn’t know until the next morning.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sun Showers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6511132) by [Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective)




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